It;s hard being back. It’s like everyone moved on without me and I’m some sort of ghost stuck here.
People have new friends, new places, new routines…and I’m not here.
I guess it makes sense. I was gone for a while. I don’t know. Maybe I just hoped things would be different, be better when I came back.
Nope. Same old, same old. I play the part of the pawn as I always do.
That’s how I know julia is truly dead. ROT is just a thing. Spineless, vengeful, cruel and at base, dead.
I’M A ZOMBIE NICE TO MEET YOU.
In some good news, I have my job back. ‘M working full time this summer which is nice.
I’ve already bought some Dabi Ch 349-350 cos stuff for next January, which is pretty cool. I’m ready for con season to be back LOL.
I relate to Dabi so much these days. It sucks when your parent beat the shit outta you as a kid and now tries to pretend that they’re a super good person.
FUCK. THE. WORLD. It’ll all burn soon enough.
I did it. I went to Norway and Sweden two weeks ago now.
It feels so surreal, still all this time later. I flew into Bergen first.
Saw Fantoft, Varg’s old house and Bergen’s Tiende and various sights around Bergen.
Then I took the 23:30 train to Oslo. April 5 I went to Øystein’s grave in Ski.
That was like a thirty minute train ride from the Oslo Sentrum but I had to see him. It was part of the deal.
April 6 I went to HELVETE. It was so fucking cool. Holy shit. I mean,,,everyone stood right there.
It was absolutely INSANE. I got a rare 1995 Morbid record dedicated to HIM. It was like 70 USD but eh.
I don’t care. It’s cool as fuck.
April 7 I took a train to Stockholm. That first day I kinda just fucked around and everything else.
April 8 I went to see HIM. I bought flowers and snus and took the 10:00 bus out to Västerhaninge, more specifically, Österhaninge Kyrkogård, where HE’S buried.
I left HIM all the offerings and I stayed in the graveyard for like thirty minutes. It was snowing.
It all felt very fitting for the kind of day that it was. I went on the thirty-first anniversary exactly.
It was definitely painful, I won’t lie. After all that, which was, like, five hours, I went to one of HIS favorite record stores in Stockholm.
Quorthon used to hang out there, too. Heavy Sound is what it used to be called; I think it’s Sound Pollution now. I bought a Rotting Christ record there.
April 9 was my last day of all of it. I went to Quorthon’s grave, about ten minutes or so out from the Stockholm sentrum, then I went to see HIM again.
I took the 23:00 plane out of Stockholm and I’m back in America now until Friday.
It’s so weird being back here after three months. I’m not welcome here anymore, even though all my shit is just as I left it in January.
The best way I can describe this is like being a ghost in your old house. Everything is relatively the same except your house has new owners now.
I’m leaving back to Aberdeen on Friday, so I won’t be here much longer, but I still feel super strange about the whole thing.
My family, particularly my mom, begged me to come home for Spring Break, and what does she do??
Proceed to ignore me the whole time and make excuses why she can’t hang out with me like she said she would. I should have just stayed in Norway for InfernoFest.
Fuck. Oh well. My plan is to go next year, when my Norwegian is better and I have more $$$.
One can only hope.
OK I got all my plane/bus/train/hotel bookings for my Norge/Sverige trip in April. It’s so fucking needed I think.
I’m going to Bergen first to see Fantoft and where Varg got started and everything like that.
Then I’m headed to Oslo to see Neseblod/HELVETE, Euronymous’ grave, and the Kråkstad house. I’ll be there for like two days. Then it’s off to Stockholm/Österhaninge to see him.
I’ll be there on April 8…so thirty-one years exactly. That one’s gonna be tough I can already tell. I’m so excited though.
This was all just a pipe dream two months ago and now it’s all actually happening. Sure, it’s cost me over 1k USD but eh.
If I’m dead in a year anyways, what's a thousand bucks to me, really.
Everyone’s telling me not to go ‘cause of the war in Ukraine and everything else like that. One of my friends who’s in her forties said “You’re young, there’ll be another chance to get to go.”
I never know what to say in these instances. I can’t just say that going to these specific places are necessities before I can blow my head to shit.
But they always wonder why I’m so insistant on going. In reality, yeah. I mean, that’s the reason why I’m going to Norway/Sweden in the first place.
Obviously, I still would have tried to go anyways, being an avid black metal fan and all, but I probably wouldn’t be this rigid about the fact that I have to go now and not in, say, two years.
I’ve almost been here for two months now, which is FUCKING crazy. It’s starting to get spring-like.
Flowers are sprouting up everywhere and the weather has seemed to go up by like five or so degrees. I’m excited for the Beltane festival here.
April 31. FINALLY I can do pagan shit without my xtian cunt parents throwing bitch fits. I’m also planning on going for a hike on the Spring Equinox.
That’s what I usually do at home, but at home I have a car, so getting around is exponentially harder here.
I’m also seeing MAYHEM in May in Glasgow so that’s absolutely IN-FUCKING-SANE. I never thought I’d be able to see ‘em. I think it’s so cool, even if it isn’t the original line-up.
Just gotta get through all my exams and papers LOL. My professors seem hellbent on making me write 5,000+ words a week. I’m in essay hell LMAO.
Wow I've literally been here for a month. It feels weird as shit to say.
Last year at this time I was preparing my suicide note and shopping for a gun to do the deed with. Now I'm in fucking Scotland.
I went to the Inverness area last weekend and I'm actually going to Inverness and Loch Ness on Saturday.
It's so crazy to think about how time changes. The Highlands are so fucking beautiful, it's almost unbelievable.
Like,,,this place can't possibly be real. Too perfect. I'll try to make a picture page at some point and I'll put on my Scotland shit on there.
In other news, I can't fucking sleep here. I don't know what the problem is, to be honest.
I go to sleep at 11 PM or midnight and I wake up at 4 AM. Then I'm up for a few hours, then I go back to sleep and wake up at like fucking 10 AM.
LAZY LAZY LAZY LAZY.
I need to get myself on track. I'm gonna lose my shit if I can't get myself on a schedule.
goddamnit i miss my electric guitar so fucking much
Listening to: Adeiu Mon Homme - Aurora cover
The girls I'm rooming with are pretty funny. They're all from Scandinavia. It's like all the gods and spirits know about everything so
they put me with people who are familiar with the regions. We went to the beach today, so that was fun.
It's a good thing we all get along. It would SUCK if we hated each other or something.
It's weird, though. They're all talking about their futures and things. Kids, marriage, jobs, that sort of thing.
I only have one plan, really. See his grave then blow my head to shit LOL. This can be awkward to bring up
in conversation, so I usually just say I wanna travel.
They don't really seem to understand eating disorders, which I find interesting. I generally don't eat much anyways, ya'know,
dead things don't need to fucking eat and all that. But while I'm here, I'm trying to see if I can reach a new low now that my cunt of a mom isn't around.
So, obviously, I skip lunch and eat, like, celery for dinner.
Those poor girls are always asking me "Is that all you're having???" and stuff like that. Maybe its an American thing to eat super small??
IDK I know I eat more than some of my normal, non disordered friends, I just work out and don't eat shit food.
I try to eat at off times now, so they won't be in the room. IDK if it's an abused kid thing or an anorexia thing,
but I hate eating in front of others.
In other news, it seems like I won't have a job when I get back to the U.S. That's fine, I guess.
I have around 11k USD saved, and if I'm leaving in April 2023, I honestly won't need more money than that.
It makes a weird confirmation, though. Everyone that I know back home won't miss me.
They find me replaceable. That's good, I guess. They won't have to grieve over me so much when I'm gone.
They can just move on to someone else.
OK that's enough morbid shit for one night LOL. We're all set to go to a pub in about an hour.
Normally, I hate social outings and things, but I figure I'll be dead soon, so I should at least try to be normal while I'm still here.
happy 53rd. i hope you're at peace.
OK I'm starting school tomorrow. IDK how to feel about that.
The idea of having my ass left in a foreign country literally scares the shit outta
me, but hey. I chose this. I want this. Scotland is pretty, the people are nice, and I'm just a ferry
ride away from Bergen. IDK whenever I feel scared I have to remind myself that
Pelle flew himself out to Norway without speaking Norwegian, with no money, with no contacts, and with
no phone. I can do this. I hope. I know my mom's afraid that I'll either slit my wrists or starve myself to
death but I'm not too worried this go around.
I like the UK far more than I ever liked America and, besides, I have a few things to do before
I can paint my brain matter self portrait.
Uhh I guess I'm just worried about the whole 'making friends' thing.
I've never been good at it, and I'm shit and talking to regular people.
Oh well, I've made it 3 years into uni. I'm sure I'll be alright.
I'm really missing him right now. I don't even know how to describe it.
I wanna go the fuck home. Death is written in my bones
and everything is about to blow.
I was never meant to live this long. I dont feel good.
I feel ancient and infant. Dead. Empty.
If there's one thing for certain, it's that he was right.
There is a blue light waiting for me at the end of this horrible, tragic tunnel.
I just have to be strong enough to get myself there.
I've fallen back into the Sol pit. I'm gonna be in the
Highlands in one fucking day and none of it feels real.
I am stuck it feels. I think I spent so much time telling
myself it wasn't gonna happen that now that
it's happening, it's all coming too quick and I'm not ready.
There's no soul in this body but the soul is somewhere else.
It wants me to go home.
I've gone back to looking her up. I miss her too. FUCK.
I gotta go and fast. My brain is fucking melting.
Three things I gotta do first.
1. Österhaninge, Sweden
2. Ski/Oslo, Norway
3. Colorado.
Then I can leave. Then I can go home.
That's the motto now.
Try to enjoy what's left and patiently await the exit.
It will be beautiful. It will be peaceful.